excerpt from “bobcat in the orchard”

Gordon has been without clients for nearly 7 months. His wife left him 1 year ago. He has 2 daughters and 2 sons. Daughter one just left to do Jesus work in Nicaragua, daughter 2 is home from rehab. Son one is a deep sea diver and cannibal historian off Easter Island. Son 2 is a bartender in Omaha, Nebraska.

On a smokey summer eve in a small office tucked away off the backstreets of a southern California city, Gordon sits at his makeshift desk with a mountain of invoices, and past due notices. An empty Lagunitas IPA lays at his feet. The hardwood floor groans to the wheels on his chair. The last breath of ink spills over the backside of an ATT bill, pouring out the words from the depth of his heart to write the last bit of hope for a business with 30 years of life, passion, sweat and grief. An ounce of ruthlessness to surge forth above the plummeting markets…

– excerpt from “bobcat in the orchard”

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About Angela Gleason

visual designer | writer | pianist in the basement | painter in the night | fashion critic | lush | Italian savant check me out: www.taxisandwalnuts.com